Rock Into Skyrim
by Neithacultra
Summary: Axel Dufour is a French blacksmith in search of the Skyforge, the one and only forge that can only be found on Skyrim. But in his quest he encounters an even greater secret of the Thu'um, and along with the dysfunctional bards he meets on his travels, Axel will venture for an even greater purpose to bring justice to Skyrim with the power of the Rock!
1. The Unlikely Fellowship

**Chapter 1**

Light came seeping back into me as I felt someone nudging me against the elbow. It felt dastardly annoying, so for the instantaneous three seconds there I was determined tear the flesh out of the idiot who was disturbing me from my somewhat comfortable coma. I tried to flail my hands about at the annoyer, only to find that they were restrained to my back.

"Damn it!" I cried, struggling. "Who elbowed me?"

"Easy, friend," said a blonde-haired man who was sitting opposite me. "The soldiers will get pissed off if you yell like that."

"Soldiers?" I exclaimed, glancing about me. It was then I realised I was on a carriage with soldiers guiding it at the front. The world about was permeated with white-capped mountains and tall darkwood coniferous trees. The carriage passengers looked absolutely sick and tired of the position they were in. The blonde-haired guy opposite me was obviously a Nord. I could tell easily from the excessive amount of chest hair that was rising from his awfully low-cut tunic. Muscles dominated the entire length of his four limbs too. The two other passengers were elves, probably dark elves as they were, well, dark. The two of them were awfully tall as well, the only difference between them being one was bald and clean-shaven while the other had long frizzy hair that was painted red. The bald elf was probably the guy who was nudging me, since he was sitting directly beside.

"Sorry, dude," the bald elf said in a strangely calm voice. "I was just feeling a tad too uncomfortable with these damn restraints. Hope you don't take it to heart, dude."

"I was about to tear you limb from limb a second ago," I explained, "but nevermind. I'm horribly capricious."

"Oh, we got an English man here!" said the hairy elf. "Come on, spray us with your mountain of vocabulary!"

"I'm not English, okay?" I said defensively. "I'm of French blood. Well, mostly."

"And I'm a Nord," the man opposite me said proudly. "And I love it."

"Yeah, cool story dude," the bald elf scoffed. "What's French by the way?"

"Oh, it's not in Tamriel. It's somewhere at that other continent called Europe," I replied.

"Europe?" the hairy elf exclaimed in surprise. "Cool, dude! I love Europe! That place is beautiful, man. It's not like Tamriel at all, with all this barren wasteland."

"Where on Tamriel are we anyway?" I asked.

"Skyrim," the Nord said in his most arrogant voice. "The great land."

"Yeah, and the people here had to catch us on sight," the hairy elf said, rolling his eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with you bloody people. Do you all have some obsession with capturing people or something?"

"Come on, we stole a cheese wheel, Barker," the bald elf lamented. "Of course those damn soldiers would catch us!"

"It's just a cheese wheel, Ged!" Barker shouted. "And it's gouda! Freaking gouda!"

"Gouda is worth alot in this country," Ged explained. "It's actually a very valuable resource. I mean, back in Morrowind it's considered a commodity too!"

"Bah, how can that be possible?" Barker snorted. "Gouda tastes like nirnroot!"

"Oi, nirnroot is very nice!" the Nord spat. "I eat it in my hometown everyday, and enjoy it!"

"And where do you hail from, Nord?" Barker asked with mock respect.

"Riverwood," he said promptly. "I am Fewder Hickenswatch from Riverwood."

"Interesting name there," Barker guffawed. "Oh, and what's your name, guy who's mostly of French blood?"

"Axel," I replied. "Axel Dufour."

"Of the oven?" Ged said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Are you a baker or something?"

"If so, I could use a bread now," Fewder commented.

"Nah, I'm a blacksmith," I said. "Came here in search for the skyforge. Unfortunately, the soldiers arrested me because they saw me standing next to a dead bear."

"Wow!" Barker laughed. "The animal conservation policy is sure getting reinforced now! Anyways, Ged and I are from Morrowind."

"We can see that," Fewder spat.

"Shut up, Nord," Barker scoffed. "Anyway, we're musicians."

"Yeah, you know, bards," Ged added.

"Bards?" I repeated after them. "But what were the both of you doing stealing a cheese wheel?"

"We were hungry!" Barker exclaimed in defense. "Our previous gig didn't earn us much money."

"Yeah, them Imperials," Ged spat. "Can't appreciate our techinical lute shredding."

"Shredding?" I said in disbelief.

"Haha, all of you have such simple stories to tell," Fewder suddenly said. "Mine was one of imminent tragedy."

The two dark elves rolled their eyes and moaned, "Seriously, dude!"

"Come on, let's just hear it," I suggested, but Barker and Ged just feigned sleep from excessive boredom.

"I shall recount the story to you, French man," Fewder spoke in a low tone of voice. "It was a day like any other day. Everyone was happy in Riverwood. The women were singing and the children were dancing. But it all changed when the sun hit the highest point of the sky."

"You mean noon," Barker coughed.

"The dragon came when we least expected it," Fewder carried on, ignoring Barker's attempts to mock his limited vocabulary. "It swooped across the wide cloudless sky and perched itself on the Sleeping Giant Inn. No one made a move as we were all stunned with fear. I wanted to throw my axe at the beast, but I feared it would set our wooden houses on fire. That would mean the end of Riverwood. So, instead of doing that, I sneaked up behind the dragon by taking the inn's back stairs and chopped off its nuts."

The dark elves expressed their disgust by cringing. I tried not to be fazed by Fewder's brutal actions and nodded slowly, signalling to him that what he said was perfectly fine with me.

"The dragon groaned and moaned and cried and screamed!" Fewder growled, his eyes widening with intensity. "And then, it flew off, leaving its balls behind on the roof of the Sleeping Giant Inn."

"Then how the hell did you get caught by the soldiers?" Ged asked, realising the story was not making much sense.

"That's a different story altogether," Fewder whispered. "I ventured to Whiterun and tried to sell the dragon's nuts to the Khajit that were camping outside the walls of the city. Unfortunately, the Khajit turned down my offer."

"And you got arrested?" I asked.

"No, it was not that simple," Fewder corrected me. "The rejection the Khajit imposed upon me was so great that it caused me to lose control of myself. Ever since young, I had this disease where if I get too angry I will turn into a giant green beast that will kill anything in its way."

"Shall we try it now?" Barker suggested, laughing.

"Unfortunately, the effect can only happen once every 20 days," Fewder explained. "Anyway, the soldiers threw a net over me while I was attacking the Khajit, smashing their barrels of moon sugar and all the other crap they stored. That's how I got here."

"Cool story dude," Barker yawned. "It sure was a thriller."

"At least we all got to know each other a little better," I said, trying to establish peace between the dark elves and the Nord.

"Yes, that's quite nice, isn't it?" Ged said, chuckling.

"Oi, quiet back there!" a soldier yelled from the front. "You people have a right to remain to silent!"

"Want to hear a song?" Barker suggested.

"In this situation, that would be interesting," Fewder said, squinting and nodding. "What song do you suggest?"

"How about the national anthem of Skyrim?" Barker randomly picked.

"Yeah, that's nice," Ged agreed. "Too bad we don't have our lutes to play the chords."

"Skyrim has a national anthem?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't say, Axel," Fewder said dryly. "We sing it every morning when the sun pokes out from behind the mountains."

"Oi, shut up back there!" the same soldier cried. "Our bosses will cut our pay if they find out we let you guys conspire! We have to make a living too, you know?"

"Yeah," another soldier added. "And we've already arrived at our destination, so try to keep quiet if you value your damn lives."

The two dark elves shrugged while Fewder rolled his eyes. I turned my attention to the village we were entering. It looked like any other village one would find in any place around the world, with the usual wooden front gate and guards patrolling along the cobblestone walls. The gates welcomed us, revealing the village that looked so ordinary apart from the fact that soldiers patrolled practically every nook and cranny of it. I witnessed women taking their children indoors, and that made me gulp. Who knew what was going to happen to us.

We arrived at an open square, where a squadron of soldiers stood with three other distinct figures. Two of them were obviously the captains of the squadron, clad fully in traditional Imperial armour with those ridiculous furry hats that made them look like horses. Both of them were surely Imperials, for a look of arrogance was exhibited on their brown faces. One of them was a stocky woman with eyes that squinted ferociously while the other was a scrawny man with a lower lip that was apparently too large for him to keep within the perimeter of his face. The third figure was excessively burly and had a pointy mask pulled over his head, where his bloodshot eyes peeked out of the tiny eyeholes. The menacing polearm the guy held in his left hand told me instantly he was the executioner, and something in the way he held the oversized weapon gave me the unwanted message that he dearly loved his job.

The carriage halted and the soldiers yelled at the four of us to get off. Ged and Barker leapt off first while Fewder and I followed briskly behind. The two Imperial captains glared at us, as if trying to break us down mentally so that they would not have any trouble executing us. I glanced at Fewder to find him as stiff as a darkwood tree, his chest hair dripping with buckets of sweat. Obviously the poor Nord was trying very hard to conceal his fear, and utterly failing at it.

"You there!" the stout captain shrieked, shoving a finger in my direction. "From where do you hail?"

"France, miss," I said. "France."

"And you, Nord?" she snapped, turning to Fewder.

"Pfft, obviously from Skyrim!" Barker scoffed.

The female captain zipped around and put her face to Barker's. She tried staring the dark elf down, but the elf had something she did not have, and that was hair. The sheer strength of his red tangled locks gave him a sudden rush of testosterone and that heightened his blood pressure so greatly that fresh steaming plasma squirted out of his pupils and seared the unfortunately wide open eyes of the captain. She withdrew screaming, thrashing about at the horrible pain she felt. I cringed in discomfort and wondered how the hell that even happened.

"What was that, Barker?" Ged asked amusedly.

"I dunno," Barker snorted, shrugging. "Man, that staring was intense!"

"Silence, you fools!" the other Imperial captain snarled. "Up to the chopping block, for you will all pay for the crimes you have committed!"

"Step up, Frenchie. You're first," the executioner growled. I did as I was told, laying my head down on the wooden block before me. There did not seem to be another choice, really. I was frightened as hell, but I knew if I did not move the bastards would find a less comfortable way of ending my life.

"Any last words?" the scrawny captain sneered.

"Er... tell my parents I love them?" I suggested, not entirely sure what to say.

"Idiot, say something grand," Fewder begged, but before he could continue a soldier slapped him round the head.

And so there came the last five seconds of my life as I watched the executioner heave his polearm above my head in drastically slow-motion. But then, everything changed. A dark shadow fell upon the village with a loud thud on the central guard tower. I peered upwards to realise that the executioner lost his focus on me and was staring up at the creature who was snarling and snapping.

It was a dragon. A really angry dragon, as a matter of fact. Something in the way it roared and screeched told me that it was particularly pissed off at someone in the vicinity.

"Oh, shit, that's the dragon whose balls I cut off!" Fewder sweared. "It wants its balls back!"

"Give them to it, then!" Barker screamed. "Don't you have it?"

"I lost the damn nutcases when the damn soldiers confiscated all my belongings!"

"You know," Ged said calmly, "while everyone's looking at the dragon, why don't we scoot?"

"Good plan, bud," Barker said. "Let's hit the road, guys!"

"Come with us, Axel!" Fewder cried. "We shall head to Riverwood!"

I briskly scrambled to my feet and glanced about me. The village was in flames and chaos ensued. Soldiers were running about desperately trying to put out fires that seemed to get larger everytime a bucket of water hit them. The two captains and executioner had already fled to their fort, so I simply ran after the escaping Nord and the dark elves.

"Seriously, dude, why Riverwood?" Barker complained.

"Okay, fine, do you know a better place?" Fewder spat.

"Err, give me five minutes and I should be able to come up with something."

"Come on, let's just get our arses over there!" Ged yelled furiously. "It's not like we even know Skyrim that well. We've only been here for twelve hours!"

"So what's the plan, again?" I asked, finally catching up to them.

"I have a house in Riverwood and that's where you all can stay!" Fewder exclaimed. "I know, no need to thank me, we Nords are very hospitable!"

"Just shut up and lead the way, will you sir Nord?" Barker screamed, and so we scurried out the backdoor of the flaming village and escaped down a gravel path into the dark woods beyond.


	2. The Evening of Many Stuff Happening

The elfin bards and I desperately tried to keep up with Fewder's unwavering Nordic pace. While we frequently had to stop because the rate at which we were moving was apparently too taxing, Fewder just kept on going, driven on by whatever had developed over the last fifty million years in the blood of the Nords. We had been scampering along a gravel path for the past half an hour, and the sun seemed to be ending its shift. My lungs and heart were pounding furiously against my chest and it felt like they could just blow up at any moment. I might even to be able squirt blood from eyeballs like how Barker did back in the village.

"Move faster, you wimps!" Fewder cried. "We have to get to the village before dark."

"It's not like undead are going to spawn or anything," Barker groaned.

"Let's just move it, Barker," Ged moaned nearly similarly.

We continued to trudge on in silent agony (besides Fewder, of course) for the next thirty seconds until something burst out of a bush that was at our left. It looked perfectly still for the past five seconds when it was within our line of sight, so the unexpected explosion of leaves invoked a scream from me. The entity that sprang out of the bush landed in front of us gracefully and snarled at us, its teeth baring with drool dripping constantly from its bloody jaws.

"Hell, a wolf!" I screamed, withdrawing hastily in fear.

"No need to fear!" Fewder shouted, clenching his fists. "I will take care of this spawn of Dagon!"

"Hey, Dagon's cool, dude," Barker spat.

Fewder ignored Barker's words and lunged at the lone wolf. What happened next was apparently the goriest scene my eyes have ever viewed. (Due to the restrictions of the fanfiction site where gore may cause the rating of this story to shoot up to R57, the paragraph has been removed so that readers of all ages can enjoy this ridiculous story. I did intend, however, to leak the paragraph on wikileaks so that I can satisfy the fetishes of some of the readers who have an interest in excessive blood. Unfortunately, before I could do that, my computer took an arrow to the knee and lost the entire paragraph. On the bright side, the rest of the chapter was saved on a thumbdrive that is fortunately magically protected so that this utterly nonsensical story will still be avaible to fuel the infantile humour of all you readers.)

"Brutal, man," Ged muttered, cringing at the intestinal mess on the gravel road.

"Yeah, I think negotiation would have worked out better," Barker added, nodding at his own statement.

"We should probably leave before the national environment agency discovers this," I said.

"Good call," the dark elves said in unision, and they beckoned to Fewder to stop picking the eye sockets of the wolf and get a move on.

Another ten minutes of silence ensued, the only sound audible being the cawing of crows and an occasional burst of gas from one of our rear ends. At the end of the inexplicably boring ten minutes, we arrived at the bank of a river which was utterly lifeless. No salmon leaping out of the water and stuff. However, we did manage to find something interesting along the river bank which was apparently a ceremonial circle of sorts. Three rocks were jutting out from each far end of the circle and had strange elaborate markings engraved onto them. Upon closer inspection, I realised they were hieroglyphics.

"Cool, I love rocks," Barker said just to end the silence.

"These are old and ancient," Fewder explained. "They are the three sacred rocks that lie beside the river and us Nords have been worshipping them for centuries."

"What does it do?" Ged asked.

"We don't know," Fewder said without a tinge of sheepishness in his voice.

"Seriously?" Barker scoffed. "Then why the hell do you worship it?"

"I think I can find out," I suggested. "I know a little on how to read the language on the rocks."

"Why would a blacksmith like you know that?" Ged asked curiously.

"I was bored," I said, shrugging. "It takes bloody long for supplies to arrive, and I always work them too fast."

"Step up and take a look then, Axel," Fewder said, gesturing to the rocks.

I squinted at the really tiny lettering on one of the rocks and began deciphering the words. I read it out to them, "This rock bestows the power of the shredder."

I looked at another one and read it out too, "This rock bestows the power of the plucker."

At last, I also read out the inscriptions on the final rock, "This rock bestows the power of the whacker."

"Cryptic," Fewder commented, putting a fist to his chin.

"You sure that's what the rocks said?" Ged said, arching an eyebrow.

"I guess so," I said, shrugging. "Either that's what they really mean or all my hieroglyphic lessons were bullshit."

"Is there a way to activate them?" Ged asked.

"No idea at all," Fewder said. "Us Nords have been staring at these things for a long time without much attempts at breaking its secrets."

"Ha, what if we say a magic word?" Barker joked. "Like, er, open sesame?"

Suddenly, the three rocks descended into the ground and the stone ceremonial circle on the ground began to twist at the mercy of the hidden machinations that powered it. Neon blue began to emanate from the cracks between the twisting spirals on the circle as a whirring sound ascended in a gradual crescendo. A low demonic choir began to sing for some strange reason even though we did not witness anyone else in the vicinity of the blinding blue light besides the four of us. Lights began to shoot up into the sky, all of them perfectly parallel to one another. And then, the lights dived towards me and slammed dead against my forehead. Despite the sheer speed the light hit me at, I felt no pain, but rather a warm sensation that began to envelop my head. Whiteness drowned my vision as I felt the warmth descend throughout my body. It felt nearly fluid, somewhat like water, just a little more viscous. Amazingly, all that happened in just five mere seconds before I collapsed to the ground once again, gasping for precious air to fuel my shell-shocked brain. I saw Barker, Ged and Fewder gathering around me as the white light dissipated and let the vision stream back into my eyes.

"What the hell just happened?" Barker asked. "You okay, dude?"

"The light," I panted. "It hit me. I don't know."

"Damn, we better get you to the town fast," Ged urged. "Who knows what the white light might have done to you."

"What about all of you?" I asked in desperation. "Anything strange happened to any of you?"

"We were untouched, but we did see you get engulfed by the light," Fewder said curtly. "Now let us get to Riverwood. Meanwhile, I shall google this incident with my iphone and find out what it is all about. Let's move."

"Wait a minute, iphone?" I asked. "In Skyrim?"

"We use eBay here too, you know," Fewder scoffed.

The three of them offered carrying me to the town, but I kindly declined as the strength seeped back into my legs. The journey was resumed at a much slower pace, but it was still in silence, the only sound in the vicinity being Fewder yelling at his iphone to give him information about the white light. Apparently, his attempts were all futile and that resulted in him swearing and tapping furiously on the device's screen. I did feel relieved that his disease of turning into a beast when enraged had a cooldown time of 20 days.

Eventually, after anotehr fifteen minutes and twenty seven seconds, we arrived at what appeared to be Riverwood, as depicted by a worn overhanging sign with the town's name inscribed on it. It was not a very large place and seemed to be a quiet peaceful dwelling which rarely encountered any problems with the outside world. However, I changed my mind when I saw the deformed roof on one of the buildings which was probably where the dragon whose balls were cut off by Fewder was perching on. The town was next to the river we had been following, where a mill was conveniently set up to harness the power of the flowing water. I glanced at the horizon to find the last shades of orange fading and giving way to the dark blue of the coming night.

"Alright, let's head over to my place and I'll give you all some new clothes to wear," Fewder said, facing us against the backdrop of the town he loved and guarded with his life. "After that, we can probably get something to eat at the Sleeping Giant Inn."

"Awright, man!" Ged said elatedly. "I'm feeling peckish already!"

"Yeah, dude," Barker said. "And we can probably do another gig there!"

"Hopefully you Nords can appreciate our crazy shredding!" Ged laughed.

"We shall see," Fewder muttered before leading us to his quarters. His house looked as boring as the other houses, constructed purely out of logs from the pine tree forests behind the town. Fewder's quarters were located opposite the Sleeping Giant Inn which was the building with the deformed roof. The interior of the residence was quite homely, having all the generic qualitites of a homely home. A small fire crackled in the central fireplace where pottery was neatly arranged upon. The left corner of the house was the territory of Fewder's bed, a classic Nord matress weaved out of the hide of hunted animals. The other corner on the right was however less pleasing as it appeared to be a site of object conglomeration.

"Hell, dude!" Barker said disgustedly, pointing at the heap of stuff. "Ever thought of getting a cupboard or something?"

"Cupboards are for pussies, my friend," Fewder proclaimed mercilessly. "Now, make yourselves at home while I try to fish out some fresh clothes for all of you."

"Yeah, we'd probably be dead by then," Barker scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Do you have any lutes here?" Ged asked.

"You can get one from Sven, our local bard," Fewder suggested. "He should be at the inn later. Just try not to size him up."

"By the way," I asked, "does anyone here in Riverwood know of the Skyforge's whereabouts?"

"Well, of course!" Fewder said delightedly, tossing a pile of dusty clothes in my direction. "You can speak to Lucan at the Riverwood Trader after dinner. He knows alot about these ancient forges that you so speak of. Or maybe you can ask Alvor, our town blacksmith."

"Will you be finding those clothes anytime soon?" Barker asked with frustration. "Ten more seconds and I would rather stick to this stench-ridden cloak of mine."

"Just a second," Fewder grunted, tossing more random objects in our direction, such as beer cans, broken mobile phones and porn magazines.

"Where the hell did you get all this stuff, Fewder?" Ged asked in astoundment, picking up one of the magazines and cringing at it.

"Like how I got my iphone," Fewder spat. "Aha! I found the three new wizard robes I ordered yesterday. These are clean, so they should be fine for the three of you."

"Seriously?" I said. "Wizard robes?"

"Once again, eBay," Fewder explained, throwing the robes carelessly at us. Though the robes would make us look like complete retards, we put them on anyway as they were cleaner than what we were wearing before. Lots of people used to tell me that hygiene is essential in Skyrim, for the locals carry diseases on them like rats with plague.

It was officially night as the sky was a perfect unwavering dark blue. The dark elves and I followed Fewder to the Sleeping Giant Inn to get some grub. Upon entering it, we were immediately slapped in the right side of our faces by the sheer energy of the activity going on inside. The energy felt strange, for it was a coarse mix of the fragrance of a venison stew and the awfully pitchy singing of the performer that night. There was an enormous barbecue pit in the middle of the inn where a whole moose was getting roasted over blazing black charcoal. A handful of people were lounging at the wooden side tables, slurping their ale and chewing their nirnroot. Also, their slight attention seemed to be fixed on a young man with a lute in his hand, carelessly strumming some of the most discordant chords ever to be composed for human ears and drawling away on a poem that did not rhyme half the time. Eventually, the man finished his performance and bowed to the audience, only to have vegetables of all shapes and sizes hurled against him in displeasure. Fewder led the three of us to a vacant table next to the bar, where suddenly a blonde woman almost immediately greeted us when we sat down.

"Good evening, Fewder!" she squealed in delight. "Nice to see you back here! So, did you manage to get rid of the dragon's testicles?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Fewder chuckled. "Sorry, I knew you were hoping to use it to make a nice casserole."

The woman laughed a horribly grotesque laugh, so grotesque that I felt like tearing out my ears. Alas, she stopped and said, "You're so funny, Mr Hickenswatch! Ooh, and I see you have brought friends tonight!"

"Err, yeah, hi," I said. Barker and Ged followed suit with a tone of unease.

"You guys are not from around here, are you?" the woman asked.

"This guy's from France and the these two hail from Morrowind," Fewder introduced. "I met them on my quest to dispose of the dragon's nuts."

"Hahaha, you better be telling me that story some time tonight, Fewdy!" the woman giggled. "Meanwhile, let's feed those empty stomachs of yours. I'll get you boys some nice venison stew with some classic mead to be going on with!"

And with that, she sashayed into what appeared to be the kitchen. The dark elves and I looked at Fewder and cringed.

"What?" Fewder yelled.

"She's weird," Barker whispered. "I mean, Fewdy? Mr Hickenswatch?"

"What have you been up to, Fewder?" Ged sneered jokingly.

Fewder rolled his eyes as the dark elves guffawed at him. I unwittingly joined in as well. Unfortunately, our moment of comedy was instantly shut up when the casual bustling in the inn suddenly came to a halt. We all turned our heads to the disruption of the flow and found that the man who had been booed of the stage had returned, his eyes burning with determination to try and win the crowd one more time.

"Ladies and gentleman!" the man announced unashamedly. "I am Sven, the bard of Riverwood, and I have returned to the stage to play one more song for tonight!"

"That's him?" Ged whispered. "I was expecting someone of a burlier stature, but nevermind."

"I will be playing," Sven proclaimed, "Back in Black, by AC/DC!"

The crowd expressed their doubts through murmuring. Nevertheless, Sven began to play, and failed horribly at it. He was not even playing at the original tempo at the song, which was double the speed of which he was strumming it at. He tried very hard to nail the originally high precise vocals, but his voice just kept on cracking. Eventually, before he even got to the chorus, his fingers snapped and his mouth bled, unable to deliver the awesomeness of the song he was unworthy of. He dropped his lute to the floor and collapsed to the ground, sniffing and wheezing.

"That guy's trying too hard," Barker winced.

Everyone stared at Sven in doubt as he twitched on the floor. After about a minute of silence, someone took the initiative to call the paramedics, who arrived surprisingly fast. They carried him out the door and everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

"That's depressing," I remarked.

"At least he left his lute on the floor," Barker said, shrugging.

"Hmm, this audience probably never got to experience the joy of music before," Ged murmured. "Let's go, Barker. Let's show them what music really is!"

"We still can have our dinner after that, right?" Barker said doubtfully.

The two dark elves stood up and marched up on the stage. The crowd gave them looks of surprise, some wondering if they were idiots trying to grab attention while others thinking that they might actually have something interesting in store.

"Good evening, townsfolk of Riverwood," Barker said casually, grabbing a microphone from a nearby stand (though I sweared that was not there five seconds ago). "I'm Barker and this is Ged, and we're two bards from Morrowind. Tonight, we'll be playing a song for you."

"Yeah," Ged said, picking up the lute. "It's a sort of mash-up we did of our favourite songs. We call it the Blind Rhapsody of the Iron Judas. Hit it, Barker!"

All of a sudden, Barker was on a drumset which was not on the stage two seconds ago. He gave a smashing beat on the drums to signal the start of the song, and with that the two dark elves were off. Ged's fingers flowed effortlessly and swiftly across the lute's fretboard as his other hand plucked it rapidly and mercilessly. Barker pounded on the drums with all his might, his hands moving so quickly that they were practically a blur. The first lines of their instrumental hit the audience like a storm, literally sweeping them off their feet and seats, some of them already sprawling on the ground and stunned in dumbfoundment at the sheer awesomeness that lay before them.

Personally, I was never much of a music lover. And even if I did listen to music, it would be jazzy elevator music. However, the display of harrowing glory on the stage before me clasped my heart and commanded me to bow down before the masterpiece that the dark elves put out. I glanced about the inn to find people shedding tears of joy, as if salvation had been achieved. Even Fewder was crying, though he I could see he was trying very hard (as always) to keep the tears in.

The glorious four-part instrumental which took us to the mountains and seas of the world ended with a tremendous splash, shattering the stage into a rain of splinters. The silence that came almost immediately after that was deafening in contrast to the art that was exhibited, everyone struck too hard. I appeared to be the first one to return to sanity and signalled that by being the first one to applaud. Everyone in the inn followed suit, dousing the dark elves in a standing ovation.

"Yeah, that's it," Barker said casually, as if he and Ged did that everyday. "We hope you enjoyed yourselves."

They trotted off the wrecked stage sheepishly upon noticing its damage, but no one seemed to pay any attention to the damages, their minds still mesmerized by the music that they never got the chance to hear before. The dark elves rejoined Fewder and I at the table and were surprised at our gaping mouths.

"Is there still dinner?" Barker asked.

"Of course, you fool," Ged spat. "And you bloody screwed up! You played 1 BPM faster than we were supposed to play!"

"At least everyone loved it, dude," Barker said defensively.

"How did you guys do that?" I asked, amazed by their performance.

"We just do it?" Ged replied. "I mean, if you practice long enough and have the passion, you'll be able to play. But that was shitty, honestly."

"What are you talking about?" I shouted. "That was crazy!"

"Not to us," Ged said.

"Come on, bud," Barker said. "Perfectionism is a sin. Meanwhile, our food's here. Let's eat."

After the hearty dinner of venison stew, I individually paid a visit to the Riverwood Trader which Fewder pointed me to. The residence of the trader was directly to the right of the Sleeping Giant Inn, another house that looked practically the same as the other buildings in the town. I was beginning to think whoever built this town must have hired a very bad architect.

The door of the Riverwood Trader had a big flashy 'open' sign hovering above it, probably powered by magic or some other arcane force. I pushed the door open and stepped inside to be bathed by the warm yellow glow of the interior. There was a middle-aged man with cleanly cut black hair standing against a counter, where atop it lay various trinkets that I supposed were what voodoo shamans used in their rituals.

"Good evening, stranger," the man beckoned in a hoarse voice. "Care to glance upon my antiques?"

"Err, are you Lucan?" I asked.

"Well, is there anyone else here that looks like he owns the Riverwood Trader?" the man joked.

"Ah, good then. Fewder told me that you would know something about the Skyforge."

"The Skyforge? Well of course! It's a legendary pit of lava where the finest tools can be forged."

"Yeah, so do you have any idea where it is right now?"

"I don't think so, but I do have a few books that might give you clues about that."

"Alright, I'll take a look then."

Lucan turned his back on me and began to search through the enormous shelf of books at the back of the counter. I waited patiently for about 4279 seconds before he finally produced two books in front of me. One of them was plain red with sparkling golden lettering reading 'Forges of the Ancient World'. The other was brown, dusty and had no words on it.

"These should be able to help you," Lucan said.

"Okay, thanks. How much?"

"That'll be ten gold pieces, since I find these books don't really have much value nowadays."

"Alright. Do you accept credit cards?"

"Sure!"

He took out a scanner from behind the counter and I handed him my credit card, though I doubted that it would work in Skyrim as my credit card was of French heritage. Amazingly, it actually worked and Lucan put the books in a plastic bag for me to carry them in. Honestly, I had no idea Skyrim was starting to use plastic bags. Maybe globalisation was doing its thing. After that, I went to meet up with Alvor, who appeared to be a burly generic Nord in an apron.

"Ah, hello," Alvor greeted from his smithing area. "Fewder told me that you would like to know the whereabouts of the Skyforge."

"Yeah, do you know anything about it?"

"Of course!" Alvor cried. "Everyone does! It's in Whiterun, which is just past that forest over there!"

"What?" I screamed. "But, how come Lucan didn't tell me?"

"You are but a fool, French man," Alvor spat. "Obviously he wanted to pick your pocket. The economy is dying here, and everyone is ready to grab the opportunity to obtain money."

I sweared and threw my plastic bag into the river.

"You shouldn't be doing that, you know," Alvor suggested. "The national environment agency is getting stricter these days. They say plastic bags will lead to the end of the world."

"Do I look like I give a damn now?" I snarled furiously. "Anyway, how do I get to Whiterun quickly?"

"Take it down a notch, friend," Alvor said in his annoyingly calm tone. "You can't go now, for wolves and skeletons dominate the forests at night. I think Fewder's going to Whiterun to report the case of the dragon landing on the Sleeping Giant Inn and deforming it so we can boost our economy a little via compensation. You can follow him in the morning."

"Okay, thanks," I muttered, leaving briskly. I returned to Fewder's house to get some sleep on a pile of rags because there was not anything else that seemed comfortable enough as a bed. Skyrim so far had been hell for me, apart from the fact that I got to experience Ged and Barker's amazing instrumental. I shrugged the worries off my shoulder and proceeded to get some shut eye before commencing another possibly arduous journey the following morning.


End file.
